《Mister Night | ✓》07
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"Hey, don't say that. I might think you don't like me."
know
"I'm just going to pretend I didn't hear that."
"Wow, someone needs a happy meal."
I
"I was talking about you, Grinch."
Excuse me,
"You're making me feel guilty, Tutu."
"Uh, I disagree, I believe... that's naturally activated. Your default setting, maybe?"
"I don't think you know what that word means... or how to count."
"Won't stop me from trying."
"Because, they all leave you in the end. And that hurts."
"Unless..."
"Everybody loves a lil' cheese."
"How could you not love cheese?"
"You're weird-"
"-and I love that."
"Cocky ass motherfucker."
"...What's your favorite food?"
"That's not food. I meant real food-"
"I- I did? Pft, come on-"
"It's a frozen dessert. Damn, calm down, holy hell... Do you cook?"
"Sheer fucking sorcery."
"You are a disgrace to the culinary world, Tutu."
"Hang up, then."
"We both know I don't, and we both know you won't."
"..."
"She just fucking hung up on-"
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“Revenge is not for the dead- we, as the living, take revenge to relieve the burden we feel,” I whispered into the air. “Salvation for the people who suffered because of you,” I watched as the city burned in the flames. “Salvation for the people like me, who believed in the proclaimed heroes when in reality they were the devils.” I smiled faintly as the ‘holy land’ of those ‘saints’ was destroyed. I heard rustling sounds as Charlotte came to stand next to me, grabbing my hand. “El, are we the bad guys?” If I was still the same as I was before, I might’ve broken down and started crying. Now, it was different. “A villain is just another victim. They cry and mourn, it’s just that no one heard, leading them into madness. It’s one of the reasons why we know the most, but care the least.” I took a deep breath. “We may be the bad guys in other peoples’ eyes, but in my story, we’re the heroes.” Charlotte took in my words for a while and pondered, before nodding in agreement. “As children, we loved the heroes, as adults we understand the villains.” I looked at her and bonked her on the head, earning an angry glare from her. “Hey! You’re barely an adult yourself you know,” she grumbled. I laughed and ruffled her hair, before countering her. “At least I’m not 12. You can’t even be considered a teenager at that age.” After that, we silently watched the flames ravage the land, before leaving.
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